The Howard Marks Book of Dope Stories

by Howard Marks

  Although my suitcase contained enough subversive literature to convict your average lightweight narcoterrorist, enough porn to ruin a politician’s career, and enough paraphernalia to open up a head shop, I knew there was no dope in there. I had rolled two spliffs in case the plane had been late on departure. These were still in my shirt. And I had a little lump up my arse. That’s what that fucking mongrel had picked up on.

  It had been a long time since I’d tried any new tricks on how to dodge Her Majesty’s Customs & Excise. I thought of simply tearing through as fast as my legs, or wheels, could carry me. There weren’t any ‘Walk, Don’t Run’ notices and no speed limits. Even if there had been a speed limit, I’d had only one line (which I’d sniffed mistakenly believing it to be a cocktail of coke and MDMA), and that was wearing off.

  Trolleying severely, I rushed to the trolley point, grabbed a trolley, pretended I was a trolley, and sped off like the clappers towards the Green Channel. Two overweight customs officers and twenty-five plain-clothes cops (who’d been ligging around the carousels making out they were badly behaved lads) tore after me. I let go the trolley and tripped over my shoelaces. ‘In a bit of a rush, are we, sir?’

  ‘No. It’s worn off.’

  ‘Well, you know what they say, sir. More paste, less speed.’

  ‘I haven’t got any speed, other than what might be stuck up my fucking nostril. And I prefer leaves to paste.’

  A senior Customs & Excise Investigation Officer tapped me on the shoulder.

  ‘Marks, isn’t it? You think you’re such a clever dick, don’t you? I think me and the other officers used to like you more when you had the balls to actually smuggle sensible quantities of dope, not just a squidge up your arse.’

  Some other plain-clothes customs approached.

  ‘Mr Marks, you have just attempted to go through the Green Channel, thereby stating you have nothing to declare. Where have you been?’

  ‘All kinds of places. Should I start alphabetically?’

  ‘Get on with it, Marks.’

  ‘Amsterdam . . .’

  ‘So, what were you doing when you were in Amsterdam?’

  ‘Shagging, from what I remember. Oh! And smoking dope in coffee shops. And drinking coffee in dope shops. In Amsterdam, it’s okay to always be in possession of a cup of coffee and five grams of mind-blowing dope. So, when I got on the plane at Amsterdam airport, I wasn’t bustable. I drank the coffee, but they wouldn’t let me smoke a fag, let alone a bong, on the plane, so I couldn’t get rid of the dope. Presumably, these days you carry the appropriate forms?’

  ‘Forms?’

  ‘Well, thousands of people arrive in London every day from Amsterdam with no worries about the five grams of dope they’re carrying until going through British Customs. Accordingly, I imagine there to be a procedure whereby the passengers deposit their five-gram lumps with HM Customs. You issue a receipt, so the passengers can pick up their dope when next leaving the country. I remember once going through a similar procedure when trying to take a blow-up doll looking like Mickey Mouse into America. You must have a load of dope here. And a load of forms.’

  ‘Are you taking the piss, sir?’

  ‘No.’

  An even more senior Customs & Excise Investigation Officer approached.

  ‘Where have you just flown in from, Mr Marks?’

  ‘Oslo.’

  ‘Oslo? My colleague just informed me otherwise.’

  ‘He’s a lying, evil, gutless wanker.’

  ‘Mr Marks, we have everything tape-recorded. Why did you tell my colleague Amsterdam?’

  ‘Because Amsterdam begins with A. I was trying to give an alphabetical list of where I’d been. Actually, I should have started with Aberavon. I drank several litres of wine on the flight, and I’m completely fucking pissed.’

  ‘Why were you running?’

  ‘I was busting for a piss.’

  ‘Any other reason?’

  ‘I’m pissed off with being busted.’

  ‘Do you have anything to declare?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Piss.’

  ‘You’ll just have to wait for a piss while my colleagues finish searching your bags. They’ve already found bottles of booze.’

  ‘That’s not booze,’ I said.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Piss. Fresh reindeer piss from the north of Norway. It’s not illegal. I would be well and truly pissed off to get busted for piss while I was busting for a piss.’

  ‘Mr Marks, we know full well that you arrived on an Iberia flight from Palma.’

  ‘Well, P comes after O which comes after A.’

  ‘Why were you in Palma, Mr Marks?’

  ‘I live there.’

  ‘And why are you visiting England?’

  ‘I live here.’

  ‘And the nature of your current work, sir?’

  ‘Crime.’

  ‘It would make me happy, sir, if you provided me with honest and consistent answers.’

  ‘Why the fuck should your happiness be my concern? Unless you smoke dope and you’ve run out.’

  ‘I don’t. Do you still smoke cannabis, Mr Marks?’

  ‘Of course. As much as possible.’

  The dog handler and the pillock with headphones that had been behind the two-way mirror were now joined in their luggage-frisking by a female member of Her Majesty’s Customs & Excise. She had big tits. The dog handler leered at her. I leered at her. Not really sexy, but she was wearing a uniform.

  ‘I want her to do my body search,’ I cried, tugging at my belt. ‘I always keep my dope under my foreskin.’

  ‘Body search!’ yelled the pillock. ‘You’ll be lucky. Pack up your cases and proceed to the arrivals hall. You’ve been cleared.’

  I staggered from the arrivals hall into the carriage of a miserable-looking tube and slumped firmly on to the hard seat. Suddenly, searing pain shot right up my arse. I squealed, jumped up and looked for the offending rat, spring or rusty tin can. There weren’t any. And the pain was gone. There’s so much unused booze and other psychoactive juice swelling around in my lobes and lubricating my receptors that I tend to ignore inconsistencies between perceptions and sensations. I sat down again. Zap! The pain returned with increased severity. The inside of my rectum felt like it was being mainlined with chilli sauce by a crab. What was going on? Had I eaten a glass instead of drinking what was inside? Was it piles? Please no! It’s bad enough having false teeth, smouldering lungs, red eyes, a pot belly. Spare me the haemorrhoidal trip.

  Then I realised I still had the dope up my arse: about half an ounce of smokable, but sharp, Moroccan. I’d forgotten to go to the loo after dodging Her Majesty’s Customs & Exiles. No problem. At least I knew what the score was. I could handle it. Come to think of it, the only sure criterion of good dope these days is whether or not it’s been up someone’s arse. No one is going to suffer that for a lump of mouldy soap-bar shite.

  Opposite sat a guy and a dog in a box. They had just flown in together. The dog looked stoned and jet-lagged.

  My arse stopped hurting. The sharp bits of the dope must have dissolved into my mucous membrane, anal-suppository style. Small wonder I was bonding mildly with the dog.

  Next time, I’ll buy a dog, stick some dope up its arse, ram some All Bran down its throat, put the fucker into a box and get on a plane. Even if at the other end the British Customs mongrel did sniff around my dog’s arse, explanations other than canine couriering would certainly be forthcoming. Who ever heard of a dog being a mule? Better still, I could buy lots of dogs and ram lots of dope up their arses. I could use big dogs with big arses. I’ll write a play and call it 1,001 Alsatians. I’ll take scenery, actors and dogs on the road up the Khyber Pass. I’ll buy a rectal ton of the finest Afghan hashish and pretend the Siva shit is dogshit. Stick it right up them.

  I wonder how much an elephant’s arse could take.

  I have nothing to declare except my genius
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  Oscar Wilde

  The Equinox

  Testing Cannabis on Dogs

  THE METHOD OF assay, which has previously been called to the attention of this Society, is that which one of us (Houghton) devised and has employed for the past twelve years. This method consists essentially in the careful observation of the physiological effects produced upon dogs from the internal administration of the preparation of the drug under test. It is necessary in selecting the test animals to pick out those that are easily susceptible to the action of the Cannabis, since dogs as well as human beings vary considerably in their reaction to the drug. Also, preliminary tests should be made upon the animals before they are finally selected to test purposes, in order that we may know exactly how they behave under given conditions. after the animals have been finally selected and found to respond to the standard test does, 0.01 grams per kilo, they are set aside for this particular work, care being taken to have them well fed, well housed, and in every way kept under the best sanitary conditions. Usually we have found it desirable to keep two or more of the approved animals on hand at all times, so there may not be delay in testing samples as they come in.

  In applying the test, the standard dose (in form of solid extract for convenience) is administered internally in a small capsule. The dog’s tongue is drawn forward between the teeth with the left hand and the capsule placed on the back part of the tongue with the right hand. The tongue is then quickly released and the capsule is swallowed with ease. In order that the drug may be rapidly absorbed, food should be withheld for twenty-four hours before the test and an efficient cathartic given if needed.

  Within a comparatively short time the dog begins to show the characteristic action of the drug. There are three typical effects to be noticed from active extracts on susceptible animals: first a stage of excitability, then a stage of incoordination, followed by a period of drowsiness. The first of these is so dependent on the characteristics of the dog used that it is of little value for judging the activity of the drug, while, with only a few exceptions, the second, or the stage of incoordination, invariably follows in one or two hours; the dog loses control of its legs and of the muscles supporting its head, so that when nothing occurs to attract its attention its head will droop, its body sway, and, when severely affected, the animal will stagger and fall, the intoxication being peculiarly suggestive and striking.

  Experience is necessary on the part of the observer to determine just when the physiological effects of the drug begin to manifest themselves, since there is always, as in the case of many chemical tests, a personal factor to be guarded against. When an active extract is given to a susceptible animal, in the smallest dose that will produce any perceptible effect, one must watch closely for the slightest trace of incoordination, lack of attention, or drowsiness. It is particularly necessary for the animals to be confined in a room where nothing will excite them, since when their attention is drawn to anything of interest the typical effect of the drug may disappear.

  The influence of the test dose of the unknown drug is carefully compared with that of the same dose of the standard preparation administered to another test dog at the same time and under the same conditions.

  Finally, when the animals become drowsy, the observations are recorded and the animals are returned to their quarters.

  The second day following, the observations upon the two dogs are reversed, i.e. the animal receiving the test dose of the unknown receives a test dose of the known, and vice versa, and a second observation is made. If one desires to make a very accurate quantitative determination, it is advisable to use, not two dogs, but four or five, and to study the effects of the test dose of the unknown specimen in comparison with the test dose of the known, making several observations on alternate days. If the unknown is below standard activity, the amount should be increased until the effect produced is the same as for the test dose of the standard. If the unknown is above strength, the test dose is diminished accordingly. From the dose of the unknown selected as producing the same action as the test dose of the standard, the amount of dilution or concentration necessary is determined. The degree of accuracy with which the test is carried out will depend largely upon the experience of the observer and the care he exercises.

  Another point to be noted in the use of dogs for standardising Cannabis is that, although they never appear to lose their susceptibility, the same dogs cannot be used indefinitely for accurate testing. After a time they become so accustomed to the effects of the drug they refuse to stand on their feet, and so do not show the typical incoordination which is its most characteristic and constant action.

  1905. From: The Equinox: The Review of Scientific Illuminism, vol. 1, no. 1, 1909

  Ronald K. Siegel

  Intoxication: Life in Pursuit of Artificial Paradise

  Cats are attracted to catnip purely for reasons of chemical pleasure. Catnip (Meseta cataria) is a perennial herb with downy leaves and a strong mint odour. It is native to such diverse locales as Scandinavia, Kashmir, Canada and New Jersey. Today it is widely cultivated throughout the world. Surprisingly, there is no overlap in the distribution of the catnip plant and its namesake. Yet when placed near catnip, cats will seek the plant and return to it each day. The behaviour is illustrative of our own attraction to drugs that may be alien to our immediate environment but that, once introduced, evoke strong natural feelings. Unlike the birds seeking berries, the cats are exhibiting deliberate intoxications.

  When cats encounter the plant, their first reaction is to sniff. To humans, fresh catnip has the odour of mint mixed with fresh-cut grass or alfalfa. In the dried plant, or in commercial cat toys, the alfalfa odour predominates. Upon reaching the plant source, the cat commences to lick and sometimes chew the leaves, in the second stage of the response. The chewing is often interrupted when the cat momentarily stares into space with a blank expression, then quickly shakes its head from side to side. In the third stage the cat will usually rub against the plant with its chin and cheek. Last, there is a ‘head-over’ roll with rubbing of the entire body. Extremely sensitive cats may also flip from side to side by rolling over on their backs. The four-stage reaction runs its fixed course in approximately ten minutes.

  Biologists have referred to this intoxication as an example of animal addiction to pleasure behaviour. The nature of the pleasurable intoxication becomes increasingly evident when high doses of catnip in the form of concentrated extracts are offered to the animals. The subsequent reactions are intense: cats head-twitch violently, salivate profusely, and show other signs of central nervous system excitation. One sign is sexual stimulation. Males have spontaneous erections while females adopt mating stances, complete with vocalisation and ‘love-biting’ of any available object.

  The similarity of the catnip response to the normal sexual behaviour of cats is striking. The presentation of catnip results in a rolling pattern of behaviour that is exhibited by oestrous females during the course of normal sexual displays. These displays have prompted naturalists to speculate that catnip once served the evolutionary function in the wild of preparing cats for sex, a natural springtime aphrodisiac.

  Matatabi, which the Japanese call a pleasure plant, does the same trick for cats even better. This plant contains secondary compounds closely related in chemical structure and behavioural activity to nepetalactones. Concentrated matatabi chemicals, in doses unavailable to the cats in the natural plant, were placed on cotton balls and presented to the large cats at the Osaka Zoo. After an initial exposure, the cats became so eager for more that they would ignore whatever else they were doing – eating, drinking, or even having sexual intercourse – whenever the chemicals were made available. They displayed a very intense ‘catnip’ response, then rolled on their backs where they stayed for some time ‘in complete ecstasy’.

  1989. From: Artificial Paradises: A Drugs Reader, ed. Mike Jay, 1999

  Robert Lund

  Mikey’s Tale

  Zoë loved her rats dearly.
At first there were just two, in a twenty-gallon fishtank. They had offspring, and became a close family. Soon, Z started letting one or two at a time out to play for a while each day, just to allow them to enjoy the absence of those glass walls. Soon it became harder and harder to put them back inside at night. After some time, the tank was left uncovered, and they were permitted to come and go as they pleased.

  And come and go they did – mostly come. Over a period of months, their numbers multiplied steadily, to the point where upon entering the apartment one would encounter a veritable ‘ratrug’, made up of over a hundred little black-and-white bodies, with a few whites and tan-and-whites mixed in, eagerly greeting you. Of course, they weren’t given free access to the entire seven-room apartment. Two of the three bedrooms were closed off to the little ones – leaving them more than enough space to roam.

  Aside from our actual bedroom, the other ratless bedroom had been converted years earlier into something of an office. Atop a thick green wall-to-wall carpet sat a work table and an industrial equipment rack full of ancient minicomputers and peripherals. A bathroom was also accessed by going through this room, as well as a closet. Zoë and I used to throw all our empty dope bags into a thirty-gallon trash bag, kept in the office closet. We did this not only out of fear of someone coming across contraband trash in our garbage, but also because of the residue that came in handy on desperate days. You can scrape up quite a healthy dose out of nearly thirty gallons of ‘empty’ dope bags.

  Some rats were more exploratory in nature than others. Eventually, one enterprising young rat apparently found (or made?) a hole in the wall behind the piano in the living room, leading him to a space behind the bathtub, from which he wandered around to some loose tile behind the toilet. Voilà, he found himself in the cut-off bathroom, then making his way into the off-limits ‘office.’ We had no knowledge of his journey until one needy day, looking for bag-residue in the trash bag, we found a hole torn in the bottom of the trash bag, and many dope bags chewed to bits. Clearly the work of one of our little friends. We soon detected the means by which he must have gotten into the closet, but couldn’t find him. On successive days, we found more and more bags chewed up, but never caught him in the act. But it was clear that we had a regular little user on our hands. Just like in the experiment they used to show us only the first half of on TV, where the rats placed in the cage with cocaine would gobble it up until they died, but the rats placed in the cage with heroin would take enough to feel straight, and level off their usage – so this little fella seemed to be using it regularly, but not gorging himself on the entire pile in any one day.